


Chess

by anamatics



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Chess, F/F, Genderqueer Character, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamatics/pseuds/anamatics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Gone Daddy Gone" it is blatantly apparent to everyone that Jane and Maura need some time alone. To play chess. And be ridiculously codependent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chess

**Author's Note:**

> After the events of "Gone Daddy Gone" it is blatantly apparent to everyone that Jane and Maura need some time alone. To play chess. And be ridiculously codependent. Features genderqueer!Jane and some fucked up dynamics that I have toned down because jesus in the original it was rather fucked up.  
> Spoilers for 2x09

Chess.

Jane hasn't played chess in ages. Not since elementary school chess club, where stupid fucking Tommy always tagged along and tried to learn from the master. Thing is, Jane really was a master. Probably not as good as she could have been had she kept up, but Jane knows as she sits down across from Maura in Tommy's recently abdicated throne that she's going to school Maura.

"I haven't played in a while," Jane admits, passing Maura the pieces that Tommy took from her and carefully setting up her own pieces.

Maura's smile is calm, a far cry from the underlying mood in the room. Jane wants her mother and Tommy to leave, and judging by the fact that her mother is complaining loudly about how tired she is, she's pretty sure that Tommy is going to be helping her to the guest house in short order.

"I'm sure you will be fine, Jane," Maura replies, holding out two hands. Black pawn and white pawn clenched within them. Jane contemplates them for a moment, before selecting Maura's left - her right. A black pawn lies in Maura's carefully opened pawn and she smiles smugly as she sets it down on the board.

Jane wonders if she's in over her head.

Maura opens with something that Jane hasn't seen in a while, not that she ever really does see much with chess any more. She's out of the game, has been for years. She still reads up on strategy in her spare time (when she has it) and will occasionally play an online game when things are slow at work. She can usually beat Korsak in a few moves, it drives him nuts.

Figures that Maura would open with a slower attack. She's favoring a hypermodern structure that is going to lead to her castling at some point in the near future.

Knight to F-3.

Jane counters with her pawn. F-5. Greco Counter Gambit. Throw some chaos in there, see what Maura's nice sensible opening play will do now. "Maura," she says quietly, watching as Maura's eyes move across the chess board, up and down and back to her own pieces. "Are you okay?"

Jane is pretty sure that Maura isn't. She can see the stiffness in her posture and the ridgity in her shoulders. Maura hasn't relaxed since Jane found her and Tommy tied up at Doyle's hand.

Maura doesn't answer, moving her pawn forward, still conservative. Jane is tempted to take the pawn with her knight, but it will leave her left side vulnerable and she's not prepared to surrender to Maura's attack just yet.

"Maur, com'mon, talk to me," Jane reaches across the table, her hand brushing against Maura's arm.

She flinches away.

Jane is grateful that her mother seems to get the point, as she and Tommy are clearing out as quickly as their legs can carry them.

When the backdoor closes, Jane exhales. "He told me to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself," Maura's castling her king. Jane isn't surprised, she counters appropriately and waits to see what Maura will do next. There's several obvious moves, but Maura's a deep thinker and will probably...

Yup, there goes the first blood, Jane's carefully laid trap was tripped up as Maura's knight takes her pawn.

Oh well, Jane's got check in two moves if she's careful.

"Maybe I want to take care of you?" Jane mutters quietly. When fucking Doctor Pike had shown up to the crime scene Jane had been so scared. He's said unreachable like it was a bad thing - like Maura was a flake. Maura was anything but - her absence meant that she was hurt, sick or dead. "It should have been me here with you, not Tommy."

"He was helpful, I think you would have gotten shot again," Maura snips as Jane takes a pawn in retaliation. It's not the best move, but she's got to open up her queen and left bishop or nothing is going to matter anymore.

Jane rolls her eyes at Maura, "I am full capable of being sensitive, Maura. I got a certificate and everything." It's amazing and has rainbows on it. Jane is pretty sure she's going to hang it on her fridge and maybe her mother will _finally_ get the hint, it's not entirely accurate, but close enough.

"Somehow I don't think that Patrick Doyle would be very forgiving of your badge," Maura frowns, contemplating the board. Her brow is wrinkled and Jane wants to kiss her. This has been a trying few days for the pair of them, and maybe kissing Maura will make it better.

She remembers the way that Paddy Doyle had sounded on the phone, how fiercely protective of Maura he had been. Jane remembered what that felt like. Remembered how she had been okay with him killing to prove his point before. She would do anything to protect Maura, he would too. They were the same, a father, a lover.

"Aw shucks, and here I thought he liked me," Jane snaps her fingers comically and settles down to plot out Maura's next move. She's not used to this slow pace, she and Tommy always played for speed. "I can't win with any parental figures in your life."

Maura shakes her head, "Not even your own mother."

"Hey, leave her out of this, she lost eighty five bucks in NICKLES." Jane laughs.

There's a quiet that falls over them both then, and Jane wants to forget the game. She wants to hold Maura, to tell her that she's beautiful and that she doesn't even slightly resemble Paddy Doyle (although their cheekbones are rather similar). She'll lie through her teeth for Maura and she won't even care. She's done it before, she'll do it again.

"Can... can we pick this up later?" Maura's voice is shaking and it is in that moment that Jane has her confirmation. No, Maura Isles is not okay. The game can wait, Jane needs to be there for her now.

Maura never cries, but there are tears on her cheeks now. Jane has her in her arms, chess game long forgotten. She's pulling her in close, not letting her go. She had wanted to do this before, with Tommy there, but he doesn't know (yet) and she did not want him to find out in that particular moment.

"Shhh, baby, don't cry." Jane's cooing at her, it's fucking girly and she hates it, but she can't help herself around Maura. Maura is her light, her sun, her everything. Maura gets her in ways that no one else does.

They go upstairs, Maura shutting off the lights silently and Jane barricading the door by wedging a chair under the handle. That should keep anyone who wants to take advantage of the broken door away, she reasons. Maura seems impressed with her ingenuity and Jane is profoundly proud of herself for it.

Maura kisses Jane, her lips gentle, tentative, distracted by thoughts of Paddy Doyle and of chess.

"I have you in four moves, by the way," Jane says into the kiss, pushing Maura down onto the bed and pulling at Maura's shirt. She gets it off no problem and is already turning away, rooting in the bedside table.

Turn away.

This works for them. Jane fingers close around worn leather and she smiles. It easier like this, for her, for Maura. This is their dynamic. It's so obvious that even Patrick fucking Doyle picked up on it.

Maura's curled up under the covers by the time Jane has got the harness on. She's taken off her bra, but has her arms wrapped around her legs. Her chin is resting on her knees and she looks adorable.

"Do you not want to?" Jane asks quietly. She can take it off, take off the comfort of being more like herself.

"No, I do." Maura replies. "I just hate him."

Jane sighs, sitting down, acutely aware of how ridiculous she looks. She pulls Maura towards her and kisses her forehead. "You are probably the only person he cares about in this whole wide world." Jane brushes the hair that's fallen into Maura's eyes away, tilting her chin so that their eyes meet. "I can't tell you to love him, or to treat him as anything more than a contributing factor to your existence, but he does care for you."

"He asked me if Tommy and I were dating," Maura says miserably and Jane bursts out laughing. "I didn't answer him."

Jane pushes Maura back down and onto the bed, lips pressed against Maura's, not trying to take the kiss further, a chaste promise of what is to come. "He called me, Maura. He knows you and Tommy aren't dating."

There's a look of relief so blatant across Maura's normally closed-off features that Jane can't help but smile. She knows that it's annoying as it is to have everyone they know constantly up in their shit trying to hook them up with any Tom, Dick, or Harry that comes along. She just wants Maura, all she's ever wanted was Maura from the moment Jane first set eyes on her. Maura understood her, got her quirks and her strange problems with identity.

Maura could play her chess game.

Trailing kisses down the hot skin of Maura's neck, Jane doesn't give herself time to think. To think about what it might mean to have the name of Patrick fucking Doyle even loosely associated with her. She's a good cop - some would even say a great cop - to get involved with him, with someone like him, is bad news. But he's Maura's fucking biological father and he doesn't seem to be doing anything to hurt her - at least not intentionally. The scars of adoption run deep and cut even deeper when opened. He keeps opening them; Jane doesn't think Doyle even realizes he's doing it.

"Jane..." Maura breathes as Jane's lips close around the skin on her neck. Jane knows Maura likes it when she kisses her there, and Jane lingers, content to taste the salt and faint smell of morgue chemicals that always seems to linger around Maura. The smell doesn't bother Jane. Maura masks it well with perfume, but Jane can always smell it, and it is just so Maura that she finds it intoxicating. "Jane please..."

This is why she is here, to help Maura to forget.

"You smell good," Jane whispers, burying her nose in Maura's hair and letting her hand wander downwards. She's propped up on one elbow, fingers touching Maura's breast. She pauses, reverent, afraid to fully claim what she's claimed time and time again. She can see the stark white mark on her hand, marring her from ever truly being herself again. It aches now, but she doesn't care.

Maura's skin is soft, it is warm to the touch, burning as Jane's fingers. She can never get enough of it, how Maura feels, how she smells. How her body fits so nicely against Jane's. This is about forgetting, about comfort.

About how Jane isn't jealous that Tommy kept Maura up all night playing stupid fucking chess.

She pushes Maura down, into the pillows, into their safe cocoon of happiness. This is where they can truly be themselves, where Jane can do what she wants, when she wants. "Why did you let Tommy stay the night?" Jane demands, fingers twisting on Maura's skin, drawing a small gasp of pleasure out of Maura.

Jane likes that she can get Maura to make noise. Maura is rather quiet in bed, she's confessed this. Jane can make her scream.

No, she's not smug at all.

"You weren't there, I wanted someone to talk to." Jane sighs. She really should have been there. They'd just closed a case and she and Frost had been working on getting the report done until well past midnight and Jane had just gone back to her apartment to crash with the promise of breakfast and a run with Maura in the morning.

Tommy just happens to live in the fucking guest house. He's convenient entertainment, if you like felons.

"Don't make me jealous, Maura," Jane mumbles into Maura's neck. "Can't deal with it."

Maura's arms are around Jane's neck, pulling her closer. Jane's hand begins to wander downwards. She's plotting, running scenarios in her head - it's all a gigantic game of chess. How to bring Maura the release she needs to forget that her father is a fucking Mafioso. Well, Jane supposes that they don't call the Irish mob bosses mafia. That's her people, Italian. Not that there are any former Mafioso's in her family history, nope.

"Didn't mean to," Maura replies, fingers twisting into Jane's hair. It looks awful today, all frizzy and not behaving. Maura likes it when Jane's hair gets like that, she's said as much - makes Jane look wild, feral. "Sorry."

Jane sighs, fingers pulling at the button on Maura's pants, cradling her head with the other. "I don't mean to be, I just... he's my stupid kind brother, Maur." A few more twists of the wrist and she's got Maura's pants undone and all she wants to do is prove to Maura that she is one hundred billion times better than Tommy ever would hypothetically be.

"Jane..." Maura's almost whimpering as Jane moves her lips from Maura's neck to her breast. She lingers there, softness on her cheek, Maura's nipple growing hard under her tongue. She could live forever here.

She's pushing down Maura's pants under the covers, not really caring what she's doing, what they must look like to an outsider. Maura's wet under her fingers and Jane is content to stay where she is, fingers slowly dragging in and out of Maura, making sure she's ready.

What would Paddy Doyle say if he knew that Jane Rizzoli took his daughter like this? Made her completely and utterly undone like this? He must know, he wouldn't have called _Jane_ if he didn't.

 _He'd fucking shoot me_ , Jane muses, slipping another finger inside Maura, watching how her face contorts in pleasure and then relaxes into the rhythm of it. _Or stab me._

Paddy Doyle loved Maura's mother, that much is obvious from the way Maura's said he looks at her - says she looks just like her mother. Paddy Doyle would probably never allow himself to stoop to such brazen levels of animalistic comfort sex, not with a _lady_ like Maura.

How the fuck is there honor for mobsters and criminals but none for those fighting the good fight?

Jane has to get out of her head.

She can take Maura's rook in three moves with her pawns alone, but that leaves her right side vulnerable. Jane pulls her fingers out of Maura, lingering just at the entrance. "You ready?"

Maura's pulling on Jane's chin, trying to draw her up for a kiss, "Jane, you're a million miles away."

How Maura is so perceptive despite her stunted social skills is one of the few things that Jane can never really understand. She gets, intellectually, that it's just because Maura knows Jane probably better than Jane knows herself. Still, it's unnerving sometimes.

Jane smiles wryly at Maura, "I was just thinking that Doyle's gunna murder me - I'm that guy that's nowhere near good enough for his kid." She leans down, kissing her drawing still damp fingers up to rest on Maura's hip. The skin there burns.

"Well," Maura says, exhaling slowly as Jane moves her hips and begins to tease her again. She's worrying kiss-swollen lips and Jane thinks she's beautiful. "I think that you're the best _guy_ for the job."

Jane pushes up into her at that proclamation and Maura moans as they stay for a moment, adjusting. They're lingerers. This takes a long time for them, sometimes. They go at their own pace, moving as one.

Marred hands against impeccable and beautiful skin, dark hair against light. This strange, fucked dynamic that they have. Jane loves Maura, and Maura loves Jane.

Maura is so tight, so wet, Jane moves in and out with ease, exhaling quietly as she does so. Maura's breathy moans are growing in volume as she pushes in and out. She's grinding against the harness. God, it feels good.

Jane groans into the kiss and increases her pace. Maura's nails are digging into her back through her shirt. Jane is glad that it's still on and yet wishes that Maura'd rip it off. She's so conflicted about these emotions – can never decide if she wants to be around Maura.

Shit, she had no idea she was this turned on.

Teeth against her bottom lip, Maura bites just hard enough to make the pain worth it. Jane moans, shifting her body to free up a hand – fingers closing around the soft pillow of Maura's breast. She can't look at her hand, can't let herself see the scars there. This is about Maura's pleasure.

"Jane," Maura is repeating her name, over and over again as Jane continues her frantic pace. It feels so good, it feels so fantastic, god she's gunna come just from this – that never happens.

Nails on her back and Jane slows her pace ever so slightly, propping herself up on her elbow, fingers snaking down Maura's stomach. They linger, feeling Maura's heartbeat and how her breath is coming in short pants. Jane likes to draw it out, knowing that Maura's close – that it will take a few choice movements and Maura will come, spilling over her fingers in what will forever be her undoing.

Maura loves Jane. Jane loves Maura probably more than she loves herself.

The angle is awkward, but Jane is grateful that she is at least female bodied – she understands the plumbing. Jane twists her wrist, feeling fingers catch the spot that she knows will make Maura scream.

"Oh god," Maura's whimpering, biting at Jane's shoulder as they move as one, Maura's hips rising, falling, meeting Jane stroke for stroke.

She's close, oh so close. Jane thinks about their chess game, realizes that Maura has her in check in one move and tries to figure out how to correct it. Maura must come, she has to come.

Jane moves her wrist as fast as the angle will go, drawing moans out of Maura as easily as it is to get a rise out of her with jokes about rearranging her shoes. The harness is too tight, she should have made it looser, she's gunna come.

"Maura," Jane groans, disappointment coloring her voice, "Maura gunna –" She's pushing harder, faster, hand gone from Maura now. She needs it to brace herself.

She's kissing Maura then, and she feels the most amazing thing beneath her. Maura was close too; Jane knew that, but this close? Maura is coming, kissing her, drowning out the sound of her messy orgasm in Jane's lips.

"God Maura," Jane can't think anymore. Her orgasm grips her and her arms can no longer support her, she collapses onto Maura, cheek resting uncomfortably on Maura's shoulder bone as she breathes.

There is silence then.

"I had you in two moves," Maura comments, smoothing Jane's hair.

Jane rolls her eyes at Maura as she sits and gingerly sheds the harness to be washed in the morning. "I had you in four."

The next morning, when they're both sitting in front of the chessboard bleary-eyed and drinking coffee, Angela walks in and announces that she's banning chess from the house at night because no one is getting any sleep. Jane thinks her mother fancies herself a genius sometimes. She's really not, but as Jane carefully moves her pawn forward to counteract Maura's two-move trap, they share a smile.

They weren't playing chess all night, after all.


End file.
